Relationships and Long Term Travel

     
     I'm in the ship's workout room riding a stationary bike and watching a relationship drama unfold.  A couple, probably in their early to mid-70s, is preparing for a treadmill workout. They select treadmills located side by side; both are wearing iPod head sets so presumably they are screening out each other.  He fusses with one treadmill and then another until he settles on the perfect one. She eyes him suspiciously.
  They begin their treadmill walk, both plugged into their headsets. Within a few minutes, she glares at him and tells him to stop talking. He glares back and says he isn't talking.  Apparently, they can hear each other with the head sets on. They continue walking.
   A few more minutes pass.  This time she thwacks his arm and growls something at him.  He responds "I'm not singing." They both pause for a few seconds, eyes locked in anger, then resume their walking.
   Their mini-relationship drama has captured my attention. I take note that there are at least ten available treadmills; it is not necessary that they position themselves next to each other. Though of course, they believe it is necessary.

  As a therapist, I could generate several interpretations regarding the dynamic this couple is playing out. But I'm not interested in doing that. Instead I'm thinking about a solution to their problem and a common problem most traveling couples have.  I know that if I gently tapped each of them on the shoulder and shared my thoughts, they would likely glare at me. So I keep my wisdom to myself, and they continue their less-than healthy relationship cycle.

     Ready for a little "This is what I've Been Learning and Living"?

     When couples travel long term (long as personally defined) they absolutely need to heed this first rule:
1. Don't spend every moment together!  Absolutely engage in some activities separately and with other people. The gym is the perfect place to take such a break. If this couple had selected workout machines in different parts of the gym, thus putting a little needed distance between them, their gym visit and perhaps the overall trip might have gone better. For heaven's sake, take breaks!

Rule #2 is equally important but tricky for many people to carry out. It is also quite necessary to master if you want Rule #1 to work.

2. Speak up for what you want and need, including some time to yourself. It is not rude or mean to say, "I need some time to myself" or some kind version of that. If you need time alone, tell your partner/spouse/person. I suspect many people worry about offending the other person -- but really, it is kinder to request time alone than to let your frustrations build up to the point you can't stand the other person's singing or talking. Or just can't stand the other person and end up thwacking him in the gym.

In some ways people are a mystery, mostly to themselves.  People are also funny, messy, and inconsistent beings and it can be woefully easy for us to lose perspective on what we are experiencing, even when it is the good stuff. With that said, if rules #1 and #2 seem unattainable, I have another suggestion.

3. Have an internal conversation with yourself (that's right, talk to yourself) and remind yourself that you are on a fabulous trip and that your partner/spouse/person has many good qualities. If you can, go as far listing his/her qualities.

I believe the couple in the ship's gym forgot that they are on a beautiful ship, had already stopped at several Hawaiian islands, Tahiti, and Bora Bora, and were on their way to New Zealand, and then Australia. They have forgotten that they are lucky -- lucky because they can still walk on the treadmill, lucky they can travel, lucky they are alive.  In other words, they both needed to remember the good and appreciate what they have.

But humans are so flawed! R and I have been traveling in various ways for seven months. At times, I certainly forget my own rules. Watching the mini-relationship drama was a good reminder that I am lucky.

     As for the bed count, for a few days we are holding firm at 58 beds but more to come 
because we are almost to Australia and then New Zealand. We are very lucky.

Gap Year Travel -- Repositioning cruises, distance from former life, and what am I learning about myself?

When I was working, I knew nothing about repositioning cruises.  But then why would I?  Spending my limited vacation time at sea for long stretches made little sense. I first read about repositioning cruises on the Home Free Adventures blog. Those folks use such cruises as a mode of transport, a way to travel from point A -- the states -- to point B -- Europe. This system works especially well when one does not have a permanent home. Twice a year, cruise lines need to move their ships from one cruising area to another and often offer temptingly affordable rates to those who want to travel along. Many repositioning itineraries exist but typical cruises are  transatlantic cruises from Florida to Europe with many days at sea while crossing the ocean. R and I took such a cruise in the spring, traveling 15 days from Fort Lauderdale to Amsterdam. We imagined the lengthy cruise would help us both begin the necessary process of distancing from our lives in Chicago. We sort of overlooked the potential for boredom and sameness. On the spring cruise, we spent nine long days at sea, at least five of them on the rather rocky Atlantic. Admittedly, I became restless.

Currently, we are on a 17 day repositioning cruise from Hawaii to Sydney with stops in Tahiti, Bora Bora and the North Island of New Zealand. Prior to our finalizing plans and payment for this cruise, R asked me if I could manage five days at sea at a time (actually we have 11 sea days total) given that I grew restless on the transatlantic cruise.

"Of course I can," I told him.  "I learned a lot on the transatlantic cruise about how to manage sea days. I'll be fine. I've downloaded more books, I'll sign up for activities. It will be great."

      R and I have been together a long time. Soon we'll celebrate 34 years.  As the words were coming out of my mouth, we both understood that I was kinda lying to him and myself, not about the books or activities, but about managing.  My shelf life for the sea is three days. After that point, I grow restless, which is a polite way of saying I get a little bored.

Many people onboard have solved the issue by getting up each morning, eating, and then immediately spending their days sacked out by the pool, only rousing to eat again and drink.  While this system has many merits, it holds no interest for me.

So far, I've read three books, attended daily port and naturalists' lectures, watched evening live entertainment and daytime cooking demonstrations, attended cocktail party-like ship receptions and joined in wine and martini tastings. I've gone to the gym each day, taken spin classes, shown people how to use the gym equipment. I've watched people dance, played trivia, played scrabble, played Angry Birds, played with my iPad and used way too many of my expensive Internet minutes looking up stuff. I've even engaged in too many conversations about my hair, color and cut. We have both bored people who ask where we live with our tale of roaming houselessness. I have run out of things to do that interest me. I need land.

As I've expanded my understanding of retirement and other big transitions, one idea is clear: In retirement, one may have more freedom, fewer restrictions and fewer responsibilities, but our personalities and core preferences don't necessarily change, though perhaps they expand. Most of us will add to our identities as we transition from work to the next phase. But who we are will remain the same.

My gap year is reminding me that I'm someone who likes new experiences, loves learning, and is easily bored by too much sameness. All good to know as I create this next phase. And happily, we have spent a day on Tahiti and out the window, I see land! It is Bora Bora.

This is Bora Bora!